


What Comes Naturally

by psychi



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-05
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 01:29:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychi/pseuds/psychi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Raven shows up naked in the kitchen, Charles skims her thoughts and finds out Erik's involved.  He's not amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Comes Naturally

The chess board is between them, pawns have been moved, but no one's actually playing.  Erik's focused on Charles while the other man quietly fumes at him.

 _You're a fucking hypocrite_ , Charles finally projects at Erik. _You only think mutations are neat and should be used to their fullest extent when you think you can use them for your own purposes or completely defend against them._

It's not quite true, but true enough.

“Get out of my head,” Erik replies softly, almost automatically.

 _No_ , Charles replies. _And further more, fuck you for asking._

“I wasn't asking,” Erik practically growls at him.

 _Fine_ , Charles thinks. _No and fuck you for being a demanding, hypocritical prick. That better?_

“Why are you pushing this?” Erik shouts – livid now in a way he thinks should probably terrify Charles, but instead gives him a sick kind of thrill. Erik can feel it, as surely as his own emotions.

 _Mutant and proud???_ Charles projects all the irritation and anger he's feeling at him. _Aren't I being proud enough of my mutation for you? Speaking out loud is foreign for me. I didn't do it until I was six years old - after years of my parents panicking and begging me to be normal and taking me to doctors to get me 'fixed.' It's like pretending to look human is for Raven and if you can encourage my sister to run around our house blue and naked, why can't you understand that it's not natural for me to talk out loud?_

A sense of shame finally comes over Erik, but he resolutely pushes it to the back of his mind.

Charles mentally sighs at him.

“It's invasive,” Erik argues.

 _It's me_ , Charles counters, pleading for him to understand.

After a moment Charles speaks again. _You don't think seeing my sister naked is a little invasive for me? I realize you were an only child_ , he says while pulling up memories of Erik playing alone in his father's small apartment in Germany to the front of both of their thoughts effortlessly. _But she's my sister. Try picturing your mother naked and see how you feel about that._

And it's not a suggestion or request. Images of Erik's long dead mother, looking practically pornographic, dance in their heads so clearly that it's like looking at photographs. Shame comes back over Erik again, along with a fiercely bright anger. “It's not the same. You didn't even meet her until you were twelve years old,” Erik shouts.

 _That doesn't matter_ , Charles mentally shouts back at him, causing Erik to wince at a sharp pain in his right temple that goes away almost as soon as it appears.

“It does to her,” Erik says, voice moderated for a softer pitch, but laced with a fair amount of venom. “She's in love with you,” he says, like he's putting a knife into Charles. Slipping it viciously beneath the skin.

It hits Charles like a punch to the gut and he lets Erik feel it - projects the full weight of the feelings that thought provokes. Bewildered helplessness. Disgust. Sadness. Anger. Pain. Erik gasps and wants to vomit there and then, but swallows it back.

“It's true,” Erik says stubbornly. Defiantly.

 _Only for her, and I can't help that_ , Charles admits. _What did you think you were going to get out of it?_ he asks, but it's not really a question because Charles isn't playing fair anymore.

 _Or maybe he's finally playing fair and not giving up his advantage_ , Erik thinks to himself to Charles's immediate satisfaction.

 _Oh my dear Erik. You have no idea what I could be capable of if I showed your amount of restraint_ , Charles replies and a shiver runs down Erik's spine.

Images pop up for them both again. Erik suggesting Raven not wear clothes. Raven in Erik's bed. Raven watching Charles with longing clearly in her eyes. Raven lifting weights, first pale and blonde, then blue and real. Charles kissing her brotherly on the top of her head. Erik watching them both. And then it's not mere images or memories, but feelings getting pulled to the surface. Anger. Insecurity. Jealousy. Desire. Possessiveness. Fear. Denial. Anger. Love.

Erik feels that bright spot flaring up in his mind once again as Charles goes to the very core of him, but instead of candlelight and his mother, there's Charles now.  Hundreds upon hundreds of images. Impressions. Memories. Fantasies. _All_ of Charles. _And how did I get so many in such a short period of time_ , Erik wonders.

And overwhelmingly at the very core, there's love. Helpless love.

Erik feels completely flayed alive by Charles, more thoroughly than Shaw ever accomplished with his vast array of tools. But more than that, he feels Charles rear back. Shocked. Panicked. Shamed.

Charles is suddenly closed off and strangely enough, it now seems quite alien and unnatural for Erik _not_ to have Charles poking around in his head. Erik swallows back the bile in his throat again. Charles is looking at him as if he's a barely tamed, feral animal threatening to go wild again. “Did I shock you?” Erik says, challenging Charles – to what, he doesn't quite know himself.

Charles truly looks at a loss for words, staring so deeply into Erik's eyes that he's practically staring through him. The fire crackles. Charles leans back against the chair and shuts his eyes, right hand going to massage his temple.

He looks pained.

Erik takes the opportunity to quietly flee, retreating to his room where he lays on the too plush bed and stares at the ceiling until dawn.

The next morning, Charles doesn't say anything about their 'conversation.' He carries on as if nothing unusual happened until they're flying over open water and Erik's trying to lift that damned submarine out of the water. It's only then that he can feel Charles in his mind again, accessing that bright spot to help him do what he needs to do. The air coalesces strangely around Erik as time seems to slow and the metal of the submarine sings out to him through the clarity of their connection. _I love you_ , Erik thinks helplessly at him.

 _I know_ , Charles replies fondly. He doesn't say he loves Erik back, but Erik can feel him radiating affection as bright as the sun. Concern. Pride. Wonder. The soft beginnings of love.

It scares Erik like nothing has in a very long time.

Then Shaw has him inside of his little glass prism, and that's when the seed of what he's going to do forms. Erik's broken in a way he hopes to God Charles never really understands. He looks at the walls – mirrors reflecting Erik and Shaw on every surface – and he can't see the difference between himself and the monster _at all_.

 _I can't let Charles see_ , Eric thinks. _I can't let him inside again._

So when the mirrors break and Charles finally gets control of Shaw, Erik wastes no time in putting the helmet on his head and shutting Charles out for good. Shuts out the pleading screams he can hear even inside the core of the submarine. Tells Charles that he doesn't trust him. Erik kills Shaw and somewhere deep inside, he knows he's taking his place.

He pushes that thought away.

 _It's for your own good. We never would have worked. Not like that_ , Erik projects even though it no longer matters. Charles can't hear him anymore.


End file.
